


(Wanting to be...) Daddy's Girl

by writtenthroughtime



Series: WTT's Posts for ImagineClaireandJamie [11]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Not a Frank lovers story, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story based on the following prompt. Frank has passed away when Brianna is still young, she has no loyalty to him and longs for a father. Her real father. A story of love and finding family.</p>
<p>Prompt: Imagine if Frank never treated Brianna as his own. Would that cause Claire to tell Bree the truth or would Bree grow up thinking her 'father' didn't love her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bree stared out the car window lost in her thoughts as the snow fell silently down. Today was the funeral of the man who was never her father, Frank Randall. She couldn’t understand why she was there; to present a united family in grief? Her mother cried, but she knew that the tears were more of sorrow for the man he once was and not the man he had been the last eight years. 

“Bree, darling, it’s time to go in now,” Claire said, placing a hand on her daughter’s knee. 

Bree nodded. “Ok Mama,” she hesitated, “I don’t have to cry do I?”   
Claire was taken aback and looked down at her daughter. “If you don’t feel the need to cry darling, then you don’t have to cry. Why would you think you had to cry?”

Placing a hand on Brianna’s shoulder, Claire searched her eyes for what might be troubling her daughter. 

Bree’s nose scrunched in frustration. “I know that people will expect me to cry because my ‘father’ died, but I don’t feel any sadness.” Bree looked up into her mother’s eyes. “Is that a bad thing, Mama? I don’t feel any sadness for Frank’s death.”

Claire stopped and grabbed both of Bree’s shoulders. “Listen to me Brianna Ellen, you do not need to worry about what anyone thinks or what they believe you need to feel. You are the only person you need to please. I do not fault you or want you to feel anything except what you are feeling. If you feel no sadness for a man who never treated you like a daughter, like a person, then don’t feel sadness for him. No one can fault you.” Claire looked up as the people for the funeral ceremony filtered past them. “None of these people know what went on at home. They do not know you, me, or our situation. Do not feel like you need to act in any way to please them.”

Bree nodded, her face solemn and understanding of what her mother said. 

After the funeral, there was a dinner. 

Brianna didn’t know which was worse: being forced to stand by as they lowered a man she hated into the ground or forced to placate well-wishers as they mingled and ate horrible food. 

When all of the guests had left, leaving various gelatin-based form molded things, Claire wrapped Brianna up in her arms and fell to the couch, the two of them cuddling and breathing for the first time that day. 

“Mama?” Bree moved her chin up so she was resting it between Claire’s breasts and looked at her mother, whose eyes were closed as she played with Bree’s hair.

“Yes, darling?”

“Why did Frank never love me? Wasn’t I his daughter?” Bree’s question knocked the wind out of Claire’s lungs. 

Stuttering out a breath, Claire opened her eyes to look at the flame red hair and deep blue eyes that Brianna inherited from another man, another father, her true father. “There’s no easy way to say this, Bree, but no sweetheart, you were not his daughter.”

Bree nodded and mulled that sentence over in her head, working out how that could be. “But the two of you were married, how could I not be his daughter?”

“It’s a very complicated tale, my darling. If you wish me to tell it to you I will, but nothing will ever be the same once you know.”

“Nothing is going to be the same now. Please, tell me,” Bree implored.

Steeling herself for a barrage of questions and unpredictable reactions, Claire began her story. “Once, long before you were born, I fell in love with Frank Randall. We married and were inseparable. He was such a good man to me, kind, never too strict, put up with my adventurous ways to an extent. It was wonderful, until the war. When World War II broke out, I signed up to be a field nurse and Frank,”

“…was in British Intelligence. Yes, you’ve said this before. What changed?” Bree interjected.

“Quite a bit, really. During the war we saw each other a grand total of ten days in six years.” 

Bree’s jaw dropped. “How do you handle being away from someone that long?”

Claire smiled, and moved a stray ruddy curl out of her daughter’s face. “I didn’t really notice it had been that long in between visits. There was a job to do, another young man to mend, and I was always moving from camp to camp. After the war, Frank decided we should take a holiday to…reconnect. We’d lost touch with each other, we were practically strangers. Six years under normal circumstances changes a person, six years at war changes them even more.”

Claire paused and recalled the small bed and breakfast Mrs. Baird owned, the lovely Scottish countryside, and the stones. 

“We went to Scotland where something happened to me. If I’m correct, this same thing can happen to you as well.”

“What is this thing, Mama? Will it hurt me? Can it change who I am? Can it give me a father? I really want a daddy,” Bree whispered into Claire’s chest. Her heart broke with her daughter’s words.

“I’m not sure exactly what the thing is that can allow us to do so, but I believe that you can travel through time. I don’t even know where to begin on how it works or why, but that’s what happened. I fell through time. I ended up in the eighteenth century. It does hurt, darling, it most certainly will change you, but I have no way of really knowing if it will give you your father back.”

Bree’s eyes lit up at the words ‘your father.’ “I have a father? A real father who would love me? Play games with me? Teach me things?”

Claire smiled sadly down at the female copy of such a man that would do all of that and more. “Yes, love, you have a real father and he would love you more than life itself. He did love you more than life itself. This man’s name is James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, and he was a Highland Laird, warrior, and outlaw in the 1700s. 

“When I fell through the stones, I was so lost and confused. I tried desperately to get back to the stones, back to my own time, and back to Frank. After a while, I grew to love the place I had fallen into, and the people there.”

“James…” Bree whispered reverently, hanging on to every word Claire was saying. 

Claire nodded, “Yes, Jamie Fraser was the main person I fell in love with. He protected me many times, including marrying me to save me from the vile clutches of Black Jack Randall.”

Bree gasped, “Frank’s great great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great ancestor he was so obsessed about?”

Laughing, Claire nodded. “Yes the very same, though I don’t believe it’s quite that many greats. Black Jack was a cruel and evil man. He—he harmed your father beyond what words can describe. Jamie saved me from sharing a similar fate. After we were married, I fell in love. It wasn’t instantaneous, but it was very easy to do. He gave me a choice. Jamie brought me back to the stones, and wished me to go back to my own time when I told him my story. I chose not to go back. I chose him.”

“But you did go back! You’re here now! Why did you leave him?” Tears were starting to form in Bree’s eyes. 

“Shh darling, I didn’t wish to leave him. He sent me—us—back to protect us. We lived happily for three years. We did have our ups and downs and heartaches.” Claire reached out and touched Bree’s face, “You had a sister. She died as a baby—the day she was born, I have never forgotten her and mourn her still, every day.”

Bree snuggled deeper into her mother’s chest. “I’m sorry, Mama. I wish I could have had a sister to grow up with. What was her name?”

“Her name was Faith, Faith Fraser. I dream of her and what she could have become. I wish you could have had a sister as well, darling.”

Bree smiled and grabbed her mother’s hand, twining their fingers. 

Claire continued, “The uprising of 1745 happened. Bonnie Prince Charlie,” Claire sneered, “forged your father’s signature to his pamphlets and we were off to war. We fought many battles, nearly starved to death, and faced indescribable terrors. The only good thing to come from that horrid time is you.”

“Me?” Bree questioned and Claire nodded. 

“Yes, you. Just before the battle of Culloden, Jamie brought me back to the stones and made me return to this time. He knew he wouldn't survive the battle and he wanted to do what he could to save us. The sneaky man had counted and known I was carrying you; he sent me back so that a part of him still lived on. Don’t you see, Brianna Ellen? Your father loved you more than his own life and sacrificed the chance he would survive the battle and never meet you to ensure your safety.”

Brianna dug her head deep into Claire’s chest and wept. 

“He wanted me. He loved me,” was her mantra as her sobs ebbed into hiccups. 

“Yes, he wanted you so much.”

“What did he look like?” Bree questioned. 

Claire quirked an eyebrow and smirked, “Can’t you guess?”

Bree shook her head. 

“When you look in the mirror darling, what do you see?”

“Um…red curly hair, freckles, blue eyes?”

“Exactly the same red curly hair and blue eyes your father had.”

Bree grinned, finally feeling a sense of peace. She knew why she looked so different and why she was so much more different than anything Frank could have ever been. 

“Can we go through the stones and find him?” Bree questioned.

Claire shook her head. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He may have died on that battlefield.”

Bree gaped, “Haven’t you looked?” 

When Claire shook her head in the negative, Brianna huffed, “Well it’s time we find out.”

Claire grinned. “Yes darling, I suppose it is.”

The pair of them went and changed and made their way to the library, checking out every book imaginable on Culloden. 

They found nothing. 

Dismayed, Brianna dejectedly flopped on her bed, her heart aching. She only wanted to find her father; the one that would love her. 

Claire, seeing the heartbreak on her daughter’s face, made a phone call and posted a telegram to one Reverend Wakefield. The next week they would fly to Scotland, and there hopefully find evidence of Jamie’s death or life, and then off to the stones to find their family.


	2. Chapter 2

Lallybroch was just as magnificent as Claire remembered, she looked over at her daughter to see the same awestruck expression mirrored there. Bree was overwhelmed by the sights and the sounds. How everything felt so clean, fresh, and welcoming. This was home.

As they entered the dooryard, Bree caught movement from the corner of her eye that lead to another structure on the estate.

“Daddy?” Bree whispered as she saw the tall, redheaded man turn the corner at the edge of the stables. “Daddy!”

Bree took off at a sprint, leaving her mother in the dooryard. Unaccustomed to the heavy skirts of the eighteenth century, she tripped a few times on her mad dash to her father.

“Daddy!” She screamed again as she slammed into the solid figure that was Jamie Fraser.

Jamie’s eyes widened when this mass of red curls hit his chest and his arms reflexively circled the child in his arms. The child had been screaming, ‘Daddy.’

Looking up Jamie thought he saw a ghost, standing a few yards ahead was Claire. Her hair knotted back, her skirts billowing out from her, her hand covering her mouth, and tears streamed down her face.

“Jamie…” He heard the muffled cry from Claire as she then ran towards him and the child wrapped around him.

“Claire…” Jamie whispered back.

The child against his chest tilted her face up to look at him, her eyes were bright blue—his blue—and tears streamed down her face as well. The next words she spoke simultaneously broke his heart and filled it with joy.

“Daddy, we found you.”

“Aye, a leannan, ye found me.” Jamie whispered and leaned down to kiss her hair. Brianna melted into his embrace, a smile firmly on her face.

Claire watched the scene unfold with tears streaming down her face. Her two loves igniting like the sun with their twin, wild red hair blowing in the wind, and the love radiating from them. Her heart was healing and nearly complete, her family together.

“Jamie.” Claire whispered, causing his head to tilt up.

“Claire,” came the broken strangled voice of Jamie. “Come here mo nighean donn.”

She was already walking into his arms when his request was made. Jamie’s heart felt like it was going to explode from the joy and love he was experiencing. The three of them fell to the ground, hugging, crying, and rejoicing in their own happiness.

“Jamie,” Claire sniffled. “Let me introduce you to your daughter, Brianna Ellen Fraser.”

A sob emitted from Jamie as he pulled his daughter closer to him.

“I’m so verra happy to meet you, Brianna.” He said and kissed her forehead.

“I’m very happy to have you as my Daddy.”

Jamie looked over the top of Bree’s head and directly at Claire, he mouthed the question ‘how?’

“It’s a long story, Jamie. All you need to know is that we are here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

A tear ran down Jamie’s face, as he looked to the sky. “Thank-ye. I dinna ken what I ever did to deserve them, but Lord, thank-ye.”


End file.
